


Upon A Winter's Morn

by giddyant



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
Genre: M/M, Nonnies Made Me Do It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 13:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18522052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giddyant/pseuds/giddyant
Summary: 'I have held your kisses dear these past days, sire. Would you deny me another?’A troubled Gawain receives an offer from the Green Knight.





	Upon A Winter's Morn

The girdle was no protection, but a test. A test he failed.

Grey of face and bleeding, Gawain forced himself to meet his opponent’s gaze. His neck stung with every movement. Fury at his weakness overtook him.

His shout rang out across the valley. ‘I confess to you!’

The Green Knight smiled at him. Red drops fell from his terrible axe to the sparkling snow. No triumph was present in that smile.

‘You have served your penance by my weapon, Gawain, for what sin was there. You are shriven in body and soul.’

Gawain swallowed back an inarticulate protest. How could this marvel declare him clean? He had failed. No knight was he, truly. He was a disgrace to Camelot and his king. The giant of a knight still smiled.

‘I give you the girdle, a gift to remember me by. Wear it to honour me and my challenge at the Green Chapel. Now come to my castle, dear Gawain, those gathered shall celebrate our encounter.’

Gawain closed his eyes and concentrated on the pain radiating from his neck. He was a liar. A thief. Unfaithful to his maker. The anger which had flowed through him turned to shame.

‘I- I am not worthy of celebration. I am disgraced. I commend your kind words and offer, truly, but I am unworthy of them.’

The great knight frowned. ‘I will not force you to accompany me, sire, but I would not like us to part on unhappy terms. I shall ask you for a kiss, then, and we will part in love.’

Gawain cried out unhappily. ‘Love? Sire, ’twas love of my life above my honour and my God that proved my undoing! My heart is in torment and, though I hold you in the greatest esteem and would give you anything you desire, a kiss from me would be but poor payment.’

’Not only a kiss then,’ the Green Knight replied, his face growing serious. ‘I would have you lay with me, in truth. I wished to lay with Gawain the brave, Gawain the chivalrous, Gawain the modest, the very moment you stood in Arthur’s court and cut off my head. A strange and passing fancy, I’m sure you think,’ he laughed. ‘But your form and manner bewitched me even then, and I cannot let you go without indulging my ardour, if you are agreeable. I have held your kisses dear these past days, sire. Would you deny me another?’

Gawain stood silent for a moment. The knight’s eyes gleamed. Gawain’s unease warred with desire growing within him. The knight was indeed pleasing to look at with his high and clear brow and his fine, intelligent eyes, red as they were. His beauty, though passing strange, was captivating. Still, Gawain feared that this would be another test for him to fail.

‘This place is holy,’ replied Gawain, hesitantly. ‘We cannot sully it.’

‘This is my chapel, good sir knight, made in my honour. Your worship of me would be most fitting here.’

Gawain felt passion flare within him, but parried as well he could. 

‘I wish not to offend you, my lord, and I accept your compliments. I fear only your esteem is unearned.’

The Green Knight smiled slowly and hungrily. ‘Good Gawain, my esteem is rarely misplaced.’

With that, he placed his hand at Gawain’s neck and pulled him close to him. The Green Knight kissed him deeply and all around fell away to nothing. No birds flew above them, no boughs creaked under the weight of snow. 

His hands were near giant. Just one could crush his skull with the slightest exertion, and yet they cradled him as gently they would a robin's egg. Gawain’s eyes closed and he surrendered utterly into the kiss. He could no more move than he could sprout wings and fly away. Pinpricks of light began to move in the blackness. The knight pulled away from him, at last and Gawain gasped for air. 

‘Aye,’ said the Knight knowingly. ‘You are worthy indeed of my regard, sire. Now, will you join me in the delights of my chapel?’

Gawain, astonished and uncertain still, bowed his head in obeisance. 

‘I will lay with you, sire, but one thing I desire and I will ask nothing else. What is your name?’

‘I will tell you truly. I am called Bertilak de Hautdesert.’

With that, the knight took his am and led him down into the barrow. There was no altar in this chapel. Gawain saw the walls were covered with ivy and boughs of holly. Torches burned in hollows. The roots of the tree on the hill above them wound their way through the back wall. 

He began by removing Gawain’s fine apparel. The girdle, mail, the armour, his marvellously woven undershirt; all were taken from him with the lightest of touches.Soon, he stood bare before Bertilak whose delight was evident.

‘A fairer or more pleasing sight I have never seen, good Gawain. You are the flower of all the courts of the land.’

Gawain grew uneasy at heart at this fulsome praise.

‘I thank you, my lord Bertilak, You are kind indeed to so poor a knight. I am at your bidding, to kiss and make pleasure with. Take all you want, for as long as you wish.’

Bertilak’s smile began to take on a wolfish aspect. The torchlight cast strange shadows on him. His green skin glowed like a jewel at a fine lady’s throat. 

‘You still cling to your courtesy, and it does you credit. Alas, I fear your courtesy will be tested sorely by my pleasures.’ He moved closer still to Gawain, forcing him to move to the back wall of the barrow. He took Gawain’s arms and raised them above his head and, swifter than a falcon, he tied them to a tree root jutting from the earth. Gawain stifled a startled cry, swallowed, then met the knight’s gaze.

‘I tell you truly, sire, I am at your bidding.’

Bertilak nodded, seemingly pleased, then took a step backwards.

‘I have seen great wonders in the world, Gawain, such wonders never dreamt of by mortal man. The sight of you caught birdlike in my springe takes its place among them with ease.’

Bertilak shed his garments with no great haste and Gawain, bare skin flush against the cold earth, could not turn from the sight if he tried. The knight was impressive to behold. His legs were finely-shaped, yet easily as thick as an oak tree. His waist was tapered and his chest, half covered by his wildly curled beard, was so broad as to be near giant. His arms were powerful and moved with grace. His cock was of a size to fit his huge stature and was well-formed. When he had doffed the last of his apparel, he walked back to the restrained knight.

‘My lady wife promised the girdle would protect you from harm, Gawain. This was untrue as you discovered. Its powers are limited to the bounds of the Green Chapel and my chambers. Without, it is no more than a finely stitched adornment. My love would harm you grievously if you were not ornamented by it.’

He kissed Gawain then, and his hands encircled his waist. He pushed him against the wall and ravaged his mouth. After what felt like an unending age to Gawain, he moved his lips from Gawain’s to his jaw, then to the bloodied cut on his neck. Gawain could not help but gasp. He felt Bertilak’s teeth against it, and braced himself for pain. This pain did not come, but Bertilak’s tongue roved over the cut. 

Bertilak groaned after a moment and moved to kiss Gawain again. Gawain could taste his own blood on the knight’s lips. This strange ritual seemed to energise the Green Knight further. The kisses grew more deep, more violent. His hands explored every inch of Gawain’s flesh and Gawain’s surprised gasps gave way more and more to cries of pleasure and desperation. When Gawain felt he could take no more sensation, Bertilak thrust his cock within him. Gawain shouted and swore, which served to only excite the knight further.

His thrusts were inhumanly powerful and Gawain, though not in pain, felt as though he would be split in two by the end of this adventure. Sweat poured from them both. The close air of the barrow and the frenzy of their coupling made Gawain’s head swim. Bertilak’s groans were deep and his grip so fierce on Gawain, Gawain thought his chest would be marked for weeks. 

Bertilak came with a roar that shook the foliage around them. Gawain could feel the warmth of his seed within him. He could not make a sound greater than a mere mewl. Bertilak buried his great face in Gawain’s shoulder and smiled. ‘I will not have it said I am not a generous bedfellow.’ 

His hand took hold of Gawain’s cock and, with a bare few strokes, brought him to his own climax. 

Stars again formed behind Gawain’s eyelids and darkness nearly took him. He mouthed half-formed prayers and blessings into Bertilak’s chest as he pressed his face against it. His legs would not hold him upright and he trembled like a newborn foal. Bertilak took his weight. 

‘My sweet Gawain, you have proved you are worthy of all your fame. You have honoured yourself and your court here in my chapel.’ He freed him from his bonds and lowered him on to a bed of dark green moss. 

‘My lord Bertilak,’ Gawain’s voice was hoarse and barely a whisper. ‘You have my affection and friendship til the end of our days.’

‘May God reward you, Gawain! I give you the same. Now lie at your ease. Your travels ahead will be perilous and rest will be fleeting.’ He covered Gawain with his fine, ermine trimmed cloak and Gawain let himself be taken by sleep.

Gawain slept til the sun was high in the sky. When he woke, he was alone. He swiftly dressed, marvelling that his body lacked any ache or stiffness and left the now empty barrow. Bertilak stood sentry outside, leaning on the great axe. 

‘Gawain of Orkney, knight of the Round Table of Camelot, it is time for us to part.’

Gawain smiled at him. ‘My lord Bertilak, I have promised you friendship til the end of our days. Your love has honoured me beyond measure. I will hold your kindness to a lowly knight such as I in my heart always.’

‘And I will hold you in my heart, Gawain. You bear the mark of my axe and will for ay. In this, I have marked you as mine for all the world to see.’

Gawain bowed to him. ‘It is a mark I will revere, sire.’

‘I offer you a token, as the ladies do with their chivalrous knights. The girdle that my lady offered you in secret, I offer you now openly. Its green and gold will look well upon you and it shall remind you always of your contests of the Green Chapel and the champion you met there.’

Gawain took the girdle and fastened it around him. ‘Your generosity befits a great heart, my lord Bertilak. I shall wear it in your honour and as a reminder of my weakness and fallibility. It shall check my pride and chide me. It will serve to spur me to be worthy of your esteem.’

’Let us part in love, then.’

Bertilak embraced him and kissed him. They bade each other farewell and went their separate ways. Though they would meet again in tumultuous times, this tale has reached its end.


End file.
